To Leave the Past Behind
by alliterator
Summary: Giles can't seem to escape his past demons. Literally. Written for the 8th Lyric Wheel.


Title: To Leave the Past Behind

Author: alliterator

Summary: Giles just can't seem to escape from his past demons. Literally. Written for the 8th Lyric Wheel.

Notes: Takes place during Giles's visit to England in Season Six.

Thanks to Leni for the lyrics.

I wake up from the dreams again. They're worse than before. I can see them all in my mind getting slaughtered one by one and there is nothing I can do to stop them. When I wake up, my Mark hurt. After Angel defeated it, it became just a tattoo, not a Mark of anything. I even considered having it removed, but my mind was soon preoccupied with other events.

And now it's a Mark once more. Eyghon has returned.

I splash water on my face, trying to push the dreams out completely, but it doesn't work. I can't try to forget for one more night. It's back and I'm here in England waiting for it.

I can't call Buffy – which I don't want to anyway. What would she do, send Spike? And I've heard Angel is having his own problems in Los Angeles. So where does that leave me? I have to clear up the mess I made.

Driving to the Watcher's Council headquarters in London, my hands start to shake at the wheel and I have to pull over. It's becoming worse. What form will Eyghon take this time? Zombies that dissolve into green fluid? A scaly demon that attacks in dreams? Or perhaps it'll take over another loved one.

Thankfully, I reach the Watcher's Council headquarters, where I have no loved ones. Just those who I dislike and those who I loathe.

"Rupert," Quentin talks to me like I was a six-year-old, "so glad you could make it. Having a bit of trouble readjusting to life on the other side of the ocean?"

"I'm fine," I lie. "Have I missed the meeting?" I ask like I care.

"No, no," he says gesturing to a door at the end of a hallway, "we were just having some tea before it begins." I spot some of the other Watchers – some I recognize, either from before I was Buffy's watcher or from test the Council gave her last year.

The meeting is boring, mainly speeches and presentations about procedure and so forth. It's not until the last ten minutes that things really pick up and we hear reports from various teams from around the world.

"In Brazil, Alistair and a group of cadets have found an interesting cave formation that could point to an ancient settlement of Kreyock demons…"

"In Japan, Willoughby has finally found the last volume of the Seven Scriptures of Hyber. Mainly, they just describe various flora and fauna that Hyber found, but they did find a page describing something they translated to mean the Great Beast of Gorganja…"

"In California, Humphrey is still looking for the Prophecies of Aberjian…"

"And finally, in Italy, Basil has found the Rebble's Lost Volume of Demonicae, said to contain some of the best information on the demon Kyrkanzer, Urgeth, and Eyghon…"

My eyes become so wide that I suppose they might look like saucers. I look around to see if any of the other Watcher's saw my reaction. They all look to enthralled with they're eyelids.

I interrupt and say, "When will, uh, Basil be back from Italy."

"About a week, Rupert," Quentin says. "If I may inquire, why do you want to know?"

"I'm eager to look at Rebble's Lost Volume," I reply. "Buffy encountered the demon Eyghon years ago and I want to find out if she defeated it or merely wounded it." A half-truth wasn't exactly a lie. Of course, I had no qualms about lying to them either.

"Well, I'll be sure to inform you when he arrives." And with that note of condescension, the meeting ended.

The next week is Hell. I wake up every day either shivering or sweating and whenever I look into a mirror, I see its face.

The day before Basil was due to arrive, I finally realize where Eyghon is manifesting. I am on my way to an occult library to see if any of Rebble's Found Volumes of Demonicae had any information I could use on Eyghon, when a car cut me off. While I'm not one to quickly lose my temper, I am a bit agitated. It wasn't until I found I am following the car to its destination and thinking about squeezing the driver's head until it burst like a ripe berry that I notice anything is wrong. Eyghon's here all right. It's in me.

I spend the next day in my flat, in bed. If I try to get out, it will be waiting to consume me.

The phone suddenly rings, like an alarm that buzzes in my head.

"Hallo." My voice is hoarse; I haven't talked in a day and a half; I too afraid that Eyghon will crawl into my voice box and start shouting obscene things to my neighbors.

"Rupert? You don't sound too well." It was Quentin. Great. Just what I needed – an arrogant prick to talk my mind off a soul-consuming demon. After telling him that I was coming down with a head cold (no qualms, see?), he explains that Basil is here and I sit straight up.

"I'll be right there." I hang up before Quentin can get another word out.

I drive like a madman to the Council headquarters and race inside. I find Quentin conversing with a well-dressed man with an air of pompousness.

"Oh, here he is," I hear Quentin say. "Basil McDougal, Rupert Giles. Rupert Giles, Basil McDougal."

"Nice to meet you," I blurt out.

"Nice to meet you, too," Basil says. "I've heard of your Slayer's training. Quite unfortunate is it. You get your job back and a year later she no longer needs you." His aura of pompousness grows.

"She hasn't needed me for quite a while, but I hung around. Kind of like a cockroach in that respect." I'm beyond caring if my words are inappropriate. "I'm wondering if perhaps you have Rebble's Lost Volume of Demonicae on you?"

"In fact, I do." He smiles and priggishness is added to the pompousness. He reaches into a bad on the floor and takes out an old and tattered book. "It was quite hard to find, really…"

I interrupt him. "Do you mind if I borrow it for a bit?" The smile is gone now.

"Well, I just returned with it and was going to enter it into the library…"

"I won't have it more than a day," I say. "There's some information I'd like to look up."

"I'm sure you can look up any information you like when I've entered it into the library."

Something I thought never would happen happens: Quentin comes to my aid. "It's alright, Basil. Rupert is a respected and talented Watcher. In the years I've known him, he hasn't made a decision he thought was amiss. He'll return the book to you in a day." Basil looks uneasy as he hands it over to me and I have to almost pry it from his fingers.

"Thanks, Basil. Good day, Quentin." I excuse myself and leave, careful not to look like I'm in a hurry.

Back in my flat, I examine the book with the care of a crack-addict. Flipping past pages, I finally come to the passage on Eyghon, which comes with a colorful picture depicting its reptilian form consuming several worshippers.

Unfortunately, beside the picture, there was only one paragraph of information. Everything I already knew. Except one line was new to me:

_Eyghon might take slow possession of former worshippers as well; when this happens, it is often followed by a long and painful death unless the possessed can summon the spirit of Eyghon from his body and cast him into another living being._

I can do it. I can exorcise him.

I still remember the old ritual, where the candles where placed and everything. It lives in a part of my brain that I never touch and I wish would leave, but it stays there, waiting for me to use it someday. Today.

There has to be a living thing in the middle. When Deirdre, Philip, Thomas, Ethan, and I did it, one of us would go into a trance and the others would circle around to perform the ritual. But now there's only me and it.

I think of using a cat or other animal to place Eyghon in, but animals are useless as cages. It quickly gains control and kills the animal, releasing itself to terrorize again. I have to think of something else, something that cannot be killed, that cannot die. My mind draws a blank.

And that's when my "Eureka!" moment hits. I just hope it doesn't catch on to what I'm doing before I finish.

It's night and I've assembled all the candles in a circle. Four candles for four lost friends. Three to this demon, one to Chaos. I start the chanting.

It's an hour before anything happens. With only one person to do the chanting, it's much harder. Beads of sweat roll down my forehead as the old words flow from my mouth.

And suddenly, there it is. It's not corporeal, not yet. But when it talks, it talks directly in my mind.

What do you think you're doing, Ripper? Trying to exorcise me, are you? You know that never goes well. I'll just come back. I came back before and I'll come back again. I always come back. And when I do, I'll consume your weak and helpless flesh off your bones.

"I'm not afraid of you," I say, trying to keep my voice from trembling. "I learned not to fear you long ago. You cannot harm me. I am your vessel. Your link to this world. When I am gone, you will be forever gone from this world."

How well we know each other, Ripper. I cannot harm you as you cannot harm me. And yet, there are worse things than death. There is insanity.

"There are worse things than you, Eyghon," I say, my voice rising. "I've faced all of them down and you are no worse. In fact, you are less. I can beat you with a mere spell."

A spell? Ah, the casting spell. You would let me possess another living creature? How thoughtful of you, Ripper.

I start chanting the spell that we used on each other, but this time directed not at a human being, but at what was in the center of the circle.

There is no place you can put me that I cannot escape, Ripper. There is no place that you can go where I cannot find you. There is no prison, no cage.

As I finish, I shout, "There is! Where you are going, you cannot move, you cannot speak, you cannot terrorize anyone again. You cannot even die."

What? What are you casting me into? Where am i… 

And with that, Eyghon vanishes into the trunk of the tree which in the center of the circle. I pat the bark of the tree. It's a good tree and I'm sorry to use it, but it's protected; no one can chop it down and it will live for hundreds and hundreds of years. By that time, I'll have passed on and Eyghon will no longer have a tie to the world of the living.

I roll up my sleeve and look at the Mark. It's just a tattoo again. I wonder briefly if the Council will pay to have it removed. It's worth a shot.

Sand in My Shoes by Dido

two weeks away feels like the whole world should have changed   
but i'm home now, and things still look the same   
i think i'll leave it till tomorrow to unpack, **try to forget for one more night**   
that i'm back in my flat   
on the road where the cars never stop going through the night   
to a life where i can't watch the sun set, i don't have time, i don't have time   
  
i've still got sand in my shoes and i can't shake the thought of you   
i should get on, forget you but why would i want to   
i know we said goodbye, anything else would have been confused   
but i want to see you again   
  
tomorrow's back to work and down to sanity   
should run a bath and then **clear up the mess i made** before i left here   
try to remind myself that i was happy before i knew that i could get   
on a plane and fly away   
from the road where the cars never stop going through the night   
to a life where i can watch the sun set and take my time, take all our time   
  
two weeks away, all it takes, to change and turn me around i've fallen   
i walked away, and never said, that i wanted to see you again   
  
i've still got sand in my shoes and i can't shake the thought of you   
i should get on, forget you but why would i want to   
i know we said goodbye, anything else would have been confused   
but i want to see you again.


End file.
